Lies are much more fun
by Bookjunk
Summary: Owen and Michael get into a weird pissing contest. Things get a little out of hand.


**Lies are much more fun**

_According to Owen, it all started with Michael being a tool. According to Owen, a lot of things start that way because, again according to Owen, Michael is always being a tool. _

'Michael, you're backup with Owen,' Ryan said, as Michael entered the war room. Michael made a face. Pff, like I'm happy about this, Owen thought. What did Michael expect? You're late to a tactical meeting; you get the crummiest assignment. Did he expect special treatment? He probably does, Owen realised, before sighing and filling Michael in on their role.

'We're a couple…'

'Oh, _great_,' Michael snapped, barely sparing him a glance. He grabbed a file and stormed off. What a tool.

(***)

At a night club.

'We're in position,' Michael confirmed. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for not making it to the meeting in time. Outwardly, he smiled pleasantly as he slid his arm around Owen's neck. Owen stiffened.

'What are you doing?' he whispered.

'Acting the part,' Michael whispered back, taking care to keep his smile in place. Owen was such a liability. The guy didn't know how to act naturally under normal circumstances let alone during an op. He was an accident waiting to happen. Well, not on Michael's watch. He wasn't going to let Owen screw up anything. That was why, when Owen was visibly gearing up to blow their cover or do something equally harebrained, Michael kissed him.

(***)

It came to Owen in a flash. Michael the anal retentive had, at the very least, skipped a vital part of the required reading. Owen smirked. On a whim, he decided to play along. This was way too hilarious an opportunity to pass up. He wrapped his arms tightly around Michael.

(***)

Forcing himself to remember that they were on an op, Michael discreetly tried to free himself from Owen's grasp. Only one problem: Owen was not letting go. What was going on? They hated each other's guts, so clearly this was not Owen choosing the worst possible time to finally profess his deep and undying love. And what was that smug smile about? Oh, Michael thought. _Oh_. The bastard was raising the stakes, banking on the fact that Michael would back down. That wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to be the one to botch the assignment. Grimacing, Michael reached around and grabbed Owen's ass.

(***)

Jesus! Well, whatever. Let Michael squeeze my fine ass, Owen thought. He sure as shit wasn't going to be the one to bow out first. He wasn't going to give that idiot the satisfaction. So when Michael opened his mouth to say something, Owen slipped his tongue inside and tickled Michael's palate.

(***)

'Um, guys? The target left three minutes ago. We've got the info we need,' Birkhoff's voice informed them over their earpieces. Relieved, they released each other and wiped their mouths simultaneously.

'Ugh, I can still taste you,' Owen gagged.

'I need a shower,' Michael muttered.

(***)

Back at HQ.

'Why is everyone staring at us?' Michael inquired.

'I think it might have something to do with us not behaving the way family usually behaves,' Owen replied.

'What?'

'Yeah, didn't you know? We were supposed to be a couple of brothers,' Owen explained, chuckling. The look on Michael's face was the best. It got even better, though, because everyone present soon turned towards the screen of Birkhoff's computer.

'Isn't this the hottest thing you've ever seen?' Alex commented.

'Totally,' Sonya responded. Both of them were barely able to contain their glee. Michael looked at the video that was playing and groaned. It showed footage of the club they'd just left. Footage of two very familiar guys in an intimate embrace.

'You can't fake that kind of passion,' Sean joked, keeping some distance between himself and Michael just in case Michael decided that he wasn't funny.

'You made a video. Why?' Michael asked, rubbing his eyes as if that would erase the image from his brain.

'Just doing my duty to preserve this very special memory for future generations,' Birkhoff sniggered. 'I've made several backups of the video. I can send you one, if you want.'

'You didn't have to add a soundtrack,' Michael remarked drily.

'Oh yes, I did,' Birkhoff responded. He pressed the replay button. Michael winced as the syrupy music kicked in. That was when Nikita joined them.

'I still think 'the moment Nikita realised that her relationship with Michael was doomed' is a long, but apt title,' Nikita playfully ribbed. She grinned as Michael flushed. He seemed mightily embarrassed.

'You seem to be having a real problem with this,' Owen observed.

'And you don't?'

Owen thought about that for a moment. Did the whole thing amuse him? Hell, yeah. Did it bother him? Not really. Maybe he could even make it work to his advantage. A plan was coming together in his mind.

'No. I mean, yes, that it was _you_, but otherwise no. Also, you're a horrible kisser,' Owen answered. That last dig did the trick.

'You shoved your tongue down my throat!'

'I was selling it.'

'I'm a good kisser.'

'Prove it.'

Michael snorted and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

'I'm not making out with you again,' he protested. Owen rolled his eyes.

'That's fine with me. Pick anyone. Since she or he will need something to grade your... _technique_ against, I'll be happy to provide an example of how it's done,' he suggested, conspicuously eyeing Nikita. Michael's response was so predictable.

'We need an impartial judge,' he immediately insisted. That ruled out Nikita.

'Her baseline sucks anyway,' Owen replied, earning him a glare from Michael. They looked at Alex. She just laughed. They turned towards Sonya.

'I don't think so, boys.'

Almost pleading, Michael turned to Birkhoff, who was already warding him off.

'Nu-uh. Get away from me, man.'

Sean was next.

'What he said,' the soldier chuckled.

With perfect timing, Ryan came in, absolutely oblivious. Owen raised his eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Michael. Michael nodded. They didn't ask for permission like they'd done with the others. Owen felt bad about that. It was kind of a dick move.

Michael grabbed Ryan by the shoulders. The kiss that followed was everything Owen thought Michael was. Disagreeable, ridiculously uptight and short.

'Michael, what…?' Ryan gasped, before Owen cut in. He took Ryan's face between his hands and kissed him. Ryan tensed, but he soon relaxed under the pressure of Owen's lips. The kiss went on for a while. Good kisses always take time. When Alex coughed loudly, Owen broke off the kiss. He could have sworn that Ryan made a soft, disappointed noise.

'So, Ryan, who's the better kisser?' Michael asked. Ryan blinked and stared at each of them in turn with huge eyes.

'Is that what this was all about? Fuck you,' he bit out. Owen thought that it was weird to hear him curse. Ryan was usually so straitlaced and correct. Now Owen felt even worse.

(***)

Later that night.

Owen slipped into Ryan's room, cell, whatever you want to call it.

'I wanna apologise.'

'Go ahead.'

'Okay. It was not cool what we did. Michael was just getting on my nerves with how upset he was behaving and the next thing I knew I was sort of daring him to do it. I didn't think he'd really go through with it and I'm sorry,' Owen quickly said. Ryan didn't acknowledge the apology, so Owen turned to leave. He opened the door, but was stopped by Ryan's voice.

'Owen?'

'Yeah?'

'Did you…?' Ryan began, pausing only to dismiss what he was about to say in advance by making a throwaway gesture.

'This is probably completely off base, but did you by any chance orchestrate that so you'd have an excuse to kiss me?'

Owen caught his gaze and held it.

'What makes you think that?' he asked. Smiling, Ryan shook his head.

'Never mind. Just a stupid idea I had.'

'Not stupid,' Owen said. Ryan studied him, before closing the door. That night Owen found out that Ryan wasn't that straitlaced after all.

The end.

_Author's note: Reviews are always appreciated._


End file.
